Ghost of a Chance
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Ghost Of A Chance free porn video
Ghost of a Chance
Last night, I dreamed of a black horse.Upon waking, I looked in the dictionary of dreams I keep in my bedsidetable, to see if there is any significance to this particular night timevision. It seems a dream of a black horse is a dream of passion. Consideringall that has happened in the past weeks, I am not surprised.
Ever have one of those years? When everything justseemed to go to shit no matter what you planned or tried to do? Story of mylife. I am a cautious man by deed and nature, not really given to any wildflings or urges mind you, but occasionally I am given over to bouts of intenseemotion that I have no outlet or release for, that is, until I met her. Yeah,I know, sounds corny, but it's true. It was a chance meeting in fact, severalscene friends invited me to a small gathering to be held at one of the localmunch group member's home, and with just a by-your-leave, I went. I have nevermixed well with a crowd, or with persons I have never met before, I could playin such environments, but just being there was difficult.So I sat on the sofa and drank a soda while listening to other speak aboutlife and the lifestyle, off in the other room the sounds of agony and ecstasyheard in low tones as the dungeon was getting a good workout.
It was a total accident. I stood and set my cokedown as another entered the room. I collided with the woman as she turned herhead around to say something to the person behind her. Her head whiplashedto face me as we bumped, my hands instinctively reaching out to steady herglass. I froze as her eyes burned into mine. She had the eyes of a Goddess,the kind one could fall into forever. I stammered something and my eyes droppedsubmissively, only to have my chin cupped by a well manicured hand and broughtback to face her. She said nothing to me for that moment, but her eyes spokevolumes. In an instant I felt all I was open and exposed before her, and Ibegan to crave that touch of her upon me. She released my chin and nodded slowly,as if responding to an unconscious and unspoken question uttered by my soul.In a blur of movement, she was gone. My eyes slowly turned to follow her retreatingform as she moved to a different part of the house. I took several deep breathsto calm myself as I continued my journey into the dining room. There were severalpeople around the table, which held various finger foods and drinks for theguests. I wasn't too hungry, but took a small plate and returned to my seatin the living room. My seat gave me a perfect view of the outside, where severalguests had stepped out to have a cigarette. She was out there as well, laughingas she stood and smoked. She was pure dominant. Even across the room I couldfeel it. I sat there with a small plate of food untouched as I casually watchedher. She was not the most beautiful woman at the party, but to me she glowed.Her mousy auburn hair was pulled into a French braid that hung between hershoulder blades, and her horn rim glasses seemed to be forever perched on theend of her patrician nose. Her eyes locked with mine across the gulf, a slimeyebrow rose as she took another puff off her cigarette as she slowly flayedmy soul.
It took a great deal of willpower to wretch myeyes away or be forever lost. I only picked at the food on the plate as I sankdeeper into my seat, as if to hide myself from the world. I could feel hereyes flash over me on occasion, and my fingers paled as I gripped the armsof the seat. Part of me wanted to leave, I did not feel worthy to be anywherenear her, and another part wanted me to stay, to boldly go and introduce myselfto her, and perhaps win her favor. I stood quickly and made my way to the kitchenand dropped off the uneaten plate into the garbage. A pair of submissives chattedhappily while they washed the dishes under the casual guidance of their masterswho sat at the dining room table playing cards. I nodded respectfully to thetwo gentlemen, one of who gave me a grin and waved. I knew most of the peoplehere, and liked to think I have a good reputation amongst them. I wanderedthrough the house and quietly observed the public play. As I watched a sensualwaxing I felt melancholy, it was hard being a male slave with no one to serve.
I quietly bade my hosts a good evening and gatheredmy coat and left the home. I had not run into that mysterious Mistress again,and I was both happy and sad. I wasn't looking as I walked to my car, and definitelydid not see the pair of high heels that dangled near the front of left tire.The scent of tobacco filled my nostrils as I blinked and glanced up. She wassitting on the hood of my car. She raised her cigarette to her lips and drewdeeply, the ember almost illuminating her features fully in the shadowed twilight.She extended one of her hands and I took it and helped her down from the hood.She walked over to the passenger side of the car and waited as I opened itfor her, my heart accelerating. She slid into the car and I closed the doorfor her, then returned to my side and entered quickly. She said nothing asI started the car and began to pull out.
"The Bradford Hotel." She spoke, a grey streamof smoke accentuating the command. There was an accent to her voice, European,possibly from the Low Countries.
"Yes M'Lady." I responded automatically. I alwaysused the M'Lady as a formal mode of address to a Mistress. A long time agoit was the only way I was allowed to address a Superior unless I had earnedthe privilege of calling her Mistress.
She lit a second cigarette and smoked quietly,her head turned slightly to watch me. I could see her eyes in the peripheralof my vision as one of my favorite Rush song's played on the CD stereo. A wellmanicured hand reached out and touched the side of my face, tracing a linealong my ear and the soft curls of my hair. My heart skipped a beat at thetouch of her hand. Even in this the most simple of services I wanted more.
I pulled the car up to the front of the hotel andgot out and opened her door for her. She stepped out, crushing the butt beneathher heel as she rose effortlessly. She dragged one of her nails up the opencollar of my shirt, along my chest until the nail scratched my chin, bringingmy eyes to hers.
"The Penthouse Suite. Ten minutes." Then turnedand strode up through the open doors of the hotel. I glanced down at my watchand closed the door. I raced around to jump into the driver's seat, puttingthe car into gear I raced to find an open parking spot. Around the hotel andin the back lot I parked, and then raced to the entrance to an elevator. Iglanced down at my watch. Five minutes remained. The hotel was only four stories,with the upper floor devoted to suites. The Penthouse Suite was the largestavailable, and located at the far side of the hotel. I turned and raced throughthe stair door and up four flights of stairs, literally leaping up them twoat a time until I reached the fourth floor. I paused for a quick breath thenwalked quickly to the Penthouse Suite door and glanced at my watch. As timereached zero I knocked, trying all the while to reign in my racing heart.
Time stretched out to eternity as I waited forthe door to open. The click of the opening lock was akin to a lightning bolt,and the low creak of the door hinges as thunder. Her eyes took slowly examinedme before allowing me passage into her realm. I followed at a respectful distanceand stood silently as she pointed to a position in the center of the suite.I knelt in the space, my legs tucked under me with my heels pinned againstmy thighs. My hands rested on my thighs upturned and empty, my head bowed inacknowledgment of her, my legs open allow access should desire it. I heardthe footfalls of her heels as she moved around me and out of my lowered vision.Every sound, every scent, every sensation was magnified…
The water running in the suite's bathroom…
The pleasant aroma of her smoldering cigarette…
The feel of the plush carpeting through the fabricof my dress pants…
I fought the urge to look up as a chair landedonly inches from me, the legs close to my knees. Her legs fell into my viewas one of her feet hovered only inches from my face, the shoe dangled fromher toes. The shoe landed in my lap with a plop, and her nylon encased toeswriggled once. My hands rose of their own volition and slowly began to massageher dainty foot. I let my fingers work the muscles slowly, deftly easing anypains or care she had away. She let a contented purr escape her lips as I workedand I kept up a gentle pace so that I would not get too tired or my fingersworn out. I switched feet as she raised the other, setting the first foot onmy thigh to rest. My own feet shouted their stress as I worked slowly; settingaside my own pains and concerns to concentrate on her and hers alone.
Without a word she stood, the black stocking feetslowly retreating from my vision as I returned to my rest pose, my back ramrodstraight as I knelt and awaited her next command.
"You may stand." She said. I gracefully rose fromknelling to standing in one motion, my eyes never leaving the floor as my handscrossed themselves behind my back, my feet positioned a foot apart.
The sounds of Chopin lowly echoed through the roomas I heard her move about beyond my limited sight. My breath caught in my throatas I felt her hand at my back, just above my wrists. Her sheathed foot touchedthe inside of my ankle lightly, then with great force as she widened my stanceto her satisfaction. Her hand grasped both my wrists as she worked until myfeet were at least three feet apart. My legs burned, but I remained silent.I felt at peace as her hand released mine, and in an instant, everything seemedright with the world. She returned to her chair and sat down, her legs crossedas she watched me.
"Look at me." She ordered. I let my eyes slowlyrise to take her radiance in. She remained in the clothes from the party, ared leather skirt slit at the side with a white silk blouse and red leathervest. Her eyes looked at me over the rims of her glasses.
"I am Lady Anika, Professional and Lifestyle Dominant.I am a citizen of Belgium and I reside in Brussels. I know what you want." Hervoice soft. "What you desire."
I swallowed, and remained silent.
"What you want and desire is irrelevant." She producedanother cigarette and lit it. "You are a slave. You have no wants or desireother than the pleasure of your Mistress, no?" A jet of blue-grey smoke rushedtowards me.
My lips tightened to a thin line. I wanted to speak,but training won over desire.
"Your friend Michael told me all about you. Hewas, I believe, trying to 'sell' you to me." She took another puff and exhaledsharply. "I do not grant such interviews lightly, nor do I simply take in strays.If you truly wish to serve, if you truly wish to be owned…then it is,as they say, my way or the highway." Her eyes softened. "I can empathize withyou, your emotions must be in turmoil, but I expect total obedience to my orders.A woman of my station cannot be seen with anything less than perfection."
She leaned forward and pointed at an identicalchair along the wall of the suite. "Fetch."
I snapped to a smart attention and retrieved thechair and set it in front of her as she directed. She leaned back as I resumedmy position behind the chair. "Sit down."
I sat nervously in the chair and tried not to fidget.
"Now, we shall talk." She leaned over and retrievedan ashtray, snuffing out the cigarette and setting the ashtray on the carpetbeside her. "What are your dreams?"
I licked my lips once, my eyes firmly affixed toher. I was tempted to ask how my dreams mattered, but wisely did not.
"My dreams…ever since I was young I havefelt the urge to serve, to submit. For many years I did not know what it meant,until I ran across a female domination magazine in an adult book shop. It wasthen I knew what I was, and what I wanted to become. My dream is to be totallyowned by a Mistress…to be her slave, her toy, her companion, a 'goodlittle wife' as it were. Someone with whom I could lay all my fears and worriesto, to be praised and punished as needed.
Much of what I have learned has been geared towardssuch a Mistress. I learned to cook, how to keep a house, all the little thingsthat would make me useful to a Mistress…unfortunately, finding sucha Mistress who would be willing to give me a chance has been difficult to saythe least."
"You have many skills that would indeed serve aMistress well." She commented. "Do you think you have set your goal too high?"
"No M'Lady." I replied. "I do not."
"Would you give up your safeword?"
"To the right Mistress…maybe." I frowned. "Suchloss could lead to harm."
"Maybe?"
"I would have to have perfect trust in the Mistressin question before I would submit to such."
"Hmmm."
I sat quietly in the chair as she leaned forwardand rested her chin in the palm of her hand.
"Would you drop everything and leave your hometo be with your Mistress?"
"Yes." I blurted.
"You have debts?"
"I do."
"And you would forfeit those to be with your Mistress?"
"It would not be easy, but I would."
She rose slowly and walked to the small kitchenetteof the suite and retrieved a bottle of water. She sipped it slowly and staredat me.
"You present and interesting quandary." She began. "WhenI arrived here in the states I have met with and interviewed several potentialslaves. I have known your friend Michael for many years, and he suggested thatI look you over before deciding. I am indeed looking for a permanent slaveto take into my service. The ones I have interviewed before you are all moreexperienced and refined that you are. However, you have an innocence aboutyou that is as alluring as an exquisite perfume. You know much, and are capableof learning further." She sipped from the bottle again. "What are your safewords?"
"Red is for stop, yellow is for not as hard orheavy, but okay, and green is for everything is alright."
"Strip." She ordered. "Set your clothes neatlyon the coffee table and go and stand facing the corner." She pointed to thefar corner next to the patio door. She disappeared into one of the bedroomsas I stood and quickly undressed, folding each item of clothing and placingthem on the table as ordered. I set my shoes beneath the clothes under thetable and moved quickly to face the corner. I heard the clinking of metal inthe bedroom but it did not register. The weight of her words laid heavily uponme and I had to take several deep breaths to cleanse and center myself. A thousandflashes of possibilities fired through my brain, and I tried to empty my thoughtsof any and all expectations. My hands took their place crossed behind me asbefore; my feet grazed the baseboards of the walls. From my spot I could smellthe odor of paint and age in the corner of the room. Time seemed to be suspendedin an infinite moment of anticipation.
I felt her before I heard her. The scent of fineleather reached my nostrils as a pair of hands ran along my shoulders and upperback. I marveled at the simple sensations that were produced by such an act.Darkness enveloped me as she slipped a blindfold over my head and tightenedit. Her hands then trailed down my shoulders, feather-light touches along myforearms until she gripped my hands in hers.
"Step back." She commanded, pulling my hands awayfrom my body. I stepped back from the wall and let her guide me with my hands.
"Stop." She squeezed both hands, then the lefthand.
"Left." I turned left until she squeezed both handsagain. I stopped until she pushed my hands into my lower back. I took a fullstep forward, then another, then another until I was walking across the suite.In my mind I repeated the simple mantra:
Trust.
Obey.
Trust.
Obey.
The temperature of the room changed as I followedher hand signals until she squeezed both and then released them. I had no ideaas to where I was in the suite, but I remained firm in my position until shecommanded otherwise. The same feather-touch returned, tracing a path aroundmy body, around my nipples, down the soft down of my chest hair to the pubicmound. I fought every instinct to become erect as the leather of her glovetook my penis into her hand and squeeze it, then release my member to cup andweigh my testicles. The touch vanished as my genitals hung free once again.The scent of leather seemed to become intensified as something was draped overmy left shoulder. My left wrist was encased in a cuff and I heard the unmistakablesound of a lock clicking shut. My right followed and both were returned tomy waiting position. Something surrounded my waist and I exhaled as the clinkingbuckle was pulled tight. A hand slid down my left leg and pulled my calf up.A cuff being locked around my ankle, then the right leg and ankle until I wasproperly cuffed. My foot, released, resumed its spot on the floor.
A warm cloud of smoke enveloped my face as I hearda familiar snap-hiss of a lighter. A dot of heat and pain flashed across mychest, my muscles locked into place and my lips colorless as I mashed themtogether to prevent the gasp that would have overtaken me. It did not feellike a burn, yet my senses told me of the heat and bite of pain. I felt herhand reach around my head to release the blindfold and pull it off. I keptmy eyes closed as she did so.
"Open your eyes."
Her face was only inches from mine. The glassesmagnified the intensity of her blue eyes, her expression neutral. I kept verystill as she took another puff off her cigarette then take the burning emberand apply it to one of my chest hairs. The pain was lessened, but present asshe quietly burned chest hairs off. She inhaled again, this time bring herface close to mine. Smoke leaked from her mouth as she slowly rubbed her faceagainst mine. My mind and body fought as I felt the first stirrings of my penis,not wanting to become erect, but caught in the sensuality of her touch. Myfetish for watching women smoke was being used against me mercilessly. Shesmiled slightly, and then turned to walk around the bed and set the cigarettein an ashtray. My eyes flickered down to the bed, covered in toys and gearof every conceivable purpose, many of which I had only read about, but neverexperienced. On top of a set of straps was a simple file folder with my pictureaffixed to it with a paper clip. The folder was thick with papers, and I blushedat what secrets about me it contained. She returned to her spot in front ofme and took my nipples between the thumb and forefingers of her leather coveredhands.
"I like your nipples." She twisted and pulled them,grinding down with pressure. My nostrils flared as I had to bite my lower lip.
"I would pierce them, you know." She continued. "Largesilver rings that would stretch them out. Perhaps hang a chain between them."
A slight moan escaped my lips as she suddenly twistedthem in the opposite direction, the friction of the leather adding to the stingingpain. She released them and slowly rubbed them, the pain of the blood rushingin adding to the torment. She turned to the bed and picked up a leather ball-gag,then held the leather covered sphere up to my lips. I opened my mouth and tastedthe warm leather. She buckled the gag tight and stepped behind me. She turnedme to face the wall mirror. I knew I wasn't the best looking guy in the world,a little overweight, but she held me in position so that I could watch myself.Her chin perched on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me. The beltaround my waist and many hooks and clips for various items, some of which Igathered to be for chastity devices of some kind. Her hands slid up and downmy body.
"Do you know what I see?" She bit my earlobe. "Isee a slave." She whispered. "Your sole reason for existence is the pleasureof your Mistress. It calls to you." Her hand reached down to squeeze my penis. "Everythingyou are screams slave. You were born for one purpose."
I whimpered into the gag as she spoke. My heartbeat a hummingbird's dance as my stomach tied itself into knots worthy of aShibari Master.
"Shhh." She brought both hands up and locked herhands around my body. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Give my your pain,your suffering, your obedience…relax, and accept."
She guided me away from the mirror back to thebed. I took slow, deep breaths as she picked up a leather lace up sheath andslid it over my penis. With deft hands she tightened the laces and attachedseveral straps to it, then pulled it down and affixed the straps both to thefront and through my legs to the back of the belt. She stepped back and examinedher work, nodding to herself as she let loose with a sharp slap against theharness. A spike of pain flared through my groin as my penis tried to respondbut could not.
"I will be here in town for a couple of the weeks." Shepicked up her cigarette and finished it. "Can I expect your undivided attentionfor that period?"
I nodded once.
Before I could blink, the weeks were gone. Neverbefore in my life had I undergone such a test. I never left her room at allduring the test, and I knew my friend had covered for me with work, althoughI did not once think of even calling in. Spending that time at Lady Anika'sfeet was the most enlightening and rewarding experience I could have imaginedat that time. She was exceptionally cruel in her punishments, which rangedfrom a slap to the face to the cane, and quite gentle in her rewards, oftena smile and a caress, more rare a kiss. I grew to long for one her kisses,into which she seemed to pour her soul into, a perfect moment in which everythingwas well and good. And then it was over. I woke up one morning to find hergone, my friend Michael present to see me up and out of the suite. She didnot leave a card or note, and any messages she might have left through MichaelI remained ignorant of. Patience, he intoned, she would contact me if she desiredit. I would not know of whether I pleased her or not for a week. I missed theintricate bondage she would place me in before bed, and any attempts to tryself-bondage of a similar vein resulted in disaster. One could say that thepassion had left me, and in some ways it was true. That was, until a largemanila envelope arrived via express mail. There was no return address, andI frowned slightly. I opened the envelope and withdrew the contents. An airlineticket, one way, and a cashier's check along with a set of rather explicitinstructions…
Slave,
Enclosed you will find an airlineticket for Brussels. You have one week to put aside your affairs and submityourself to me. I expect you to be at the airport awaiting my car. Bring nothing withyou except your passport. Use the cashier's check to pay your debts and whatremains to use as travel money.
Signed,
Lady Anika.
I was exceptionally nervous in her show of trust. An unscrupulous personwould have simply taken the money and walked away. For me the money was simplya means to an end, and that end led to Lady Anika's leash. I paid the few billsthat remained and closed my accounts at my bank. My last night of freedom wasone of omens and portents, imagery which I had read to be of fortune and passion.
Michael promised to look after my few belongingsshould I need them, and I boarded the plane, passport in hand, without a glanceback. The trip was long, but I could not sleep nor eat. My nerves were tautlike the strings of a violin awaiting its master's bow. My fingers touchedmy lips, remembering the last kiss she gave me, tracing my bottom lip whereshe bit me. The layover in London was a blur, barely worth remembering or chronicling,to me it was all nothing more than a step closer to my goal. I did buy a simplebook on Belgium on the layover, and knew that it would only take an hour orso to reach the small country. My nerves were plainly visible to the stewardesseson the flight, and I respectfully refused any drinks that might calm me down.The last thing I wanted was to appear before her with alcohol on my breath.It was midnight when the plane landed, a clear night with a full moon shiningoverhead. The stars in the sky seemed to shimmer like diamonds as I took severaldeep cleansing breaths while disembarking. I smiled at the woman at customsand quickly cleared through and walked to the main entrance of the airport.I looked around as my eyes adjusted to the light. A large van pulled out fromthe curb and drove off, and that is when I saw her astride a black steel horse.My eyes lit up as I took the first steps towards her. She smiled…
Rowan
- 29.07.2022
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